


The Red Dress

by hellobeautworld



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes's Hair, Canon Disabled Character, First Kiss, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nomad Steve Rogers, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Wakanda (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26177077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellobeautworld/pseuds/hellobeautworld
Summary: Bucky is in Wakanda, waiting for Steve to come home from a mission. Bucky is wearing red robes. Steve likes it. They finally get their shit together.Alternatively summarised with: "So red dresses were definitely Steve's thing."
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 11
Kudos: 101





	The Red Dress

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I love Wakanda Stucky and have been sleeping on them for way too long. I decided that not only me, but a lot of others too need some fluff today, and so I am posting this fic. It's my first one ever so please be kind, constructive criticism always appreciated tho! It's not relevant for the plot, but just know that IW and Endgame don't happen here, Steve and Bucky live happily ever after after this. Hope you enjoy!  
> Thanks to @eachpeachpearlplum for beta'ing this what must've been a year ago now. Wouldn't have posted this without your help!  
> Inspired by this post I can't find anymore about Bucky's red robes and Peggy's red dress.

Bucky felt ridiculous when he first asked Shuri if he could put in a special request at whatever place his clothes were coming from. It was the first thing he had asked for since coming out of cryo, and he felt more than a little frivolous asking for clothes of all things.

He had never cared much about his looks, even though everyone who encountered him in the 1940's would probably say otherwise. There was no denying that he liked to look good but it had never been about vanity, or to impress women. He liked looking good because he liked how Steve would straight out eat him up with his eyes whenever Bucky wore something that Steve more than approved of.

Foolishly, Bucky had been sure that this particular look would only ever be directed at him. Little did he know that he wasn't the only ogle-worthy human in Steve's life. The realisation finally made its way to Bucky's Steve-centric mind when one woman named Margaret Carter came strutting into the bar clad in a figure-hugging red dress on that fateful and never-forgotten night in '43.

Because while Bucky stood next to Steve, fully accepting that he would only ever have eyes for Steve no matter the beauty of everyone else surrounding him, Steve was looking at Peggy. Steve was looking at her like she was the only person in the room. Hell, probably in the entire universe.

From that moment on, Bucky had wondered if it was more the red dress or more Peggy herself that made Steve look at her like that. Peggy was a gorgeous woman, inside and out, and Bucky would never think otherwise. Not once had he seen Steve look at another woman though, not in all the times he had dragged him to the dance halls, practically begging him to give the girl of the evening a chance before resenting her out of what seemed like plain principle. And yes, Peggy may have been the exception to the rule but to be totally honest with himself, Bucky just simply didn't want to believe that.

During his time resting and herding goats in Wakanda, Bucky had come to the decision that there was only one way to find out. If he dressed in something similar and Steve looked at him with what Bucky had creatively dubbed "The Look", then it was the red dress that had caused said Look. It couldn't be Bucky himself, because while he had occasionally toyed with the idea that maybe Steve was into him too before and during the war, he was sure that Steve definitely didn't want a fucked up ex soviet assassin now, no matter how long they’ve known each other. No matter how much that knowledge still hurt and no matter how hard it was to keep hope from blooming. So if Steve got The Look, then Bucky knew that he had a thing for red dresses; if not, then, well, Bucky knew that he didn't.

It was a stupid, idea and he knew it the second he thought of it, but for some reason, the tenacious, annoying glimmer of hope that maybe Steve's "Whatever you did all those years, it wasn't you" had meant more wouldn't be suffocated. So when Bucky put on the red robes that the Wakandan Clothes Department - at least that's what Bucky thought the source of his clothes was called - had helpfully delivered to his hut two days ago, he ignored the voices asking questions about why he wanted to know if Steve liked red dresses, why he wasn't just asking him, why he was so anxious, why he was so hopeful.

His arm - or rather the lack thereof - was impossible to ignore, especially when he tried to arrange the robes over his shoulders and body in a way that said "I tried and succeeded" and not just "I tried". Bucky wasn't insecure about only having one arm, but looking at himself in the mirror, he could admit to himself that he felt less attractive without it. Not that he had thought of his metal arm in any good way, he did and always will hate it, for how it had felt, for who put it on him, for what it had symbolised, for what it had done. For what he had done with it. But having only one arm was an entirely different feeling; it was purer, rawer, more revealing in a very bold kind of way. Bucky could hide the metal arm with gloves and a long sleeve, but this absence was always on display.

He shook his head. Now was not the time to go down that path. After having indulged in his daily dose of self-loathing, Bucky decided that it was time to stop looking in the mirror and instead look out of the window to see if Steve was coming. He was supposed to arrive at 4.36pm - yes, the Wakandans had some weird obsession with exact time designations - and it was only 3.58pm now - yes, Bucky had adopted that weird obsession with time designations - but he figured it was better to be ready too early than having to hastily put on the robes and fuck something up in the process.

Not knowing a spell to make time pass faster, Bucky went outside to his goats. The sun was shining through the clouds that tried their hardest to keep the blue sky hidden from everyone's hungry eyes, and it brought back images of sky-blue eyes squinting at the sun even though their owner knew exactly how bad it was for his already less than perfect eyesight. Why did everything have to remind Bucky of that stupid punk doing stupid things while looking stupidly gorgeous? Even his goats seemed to laugh at desperation, judging by the way they were bleating. Usually they only bleated when Bucky wanted some quiet time in bed with only his own voice and his slick hand or when someone was - yeah, when someone was visiting Bucky.

Slowly turning his head to the left, not really believing that he himself - a super human with super hearing - really failed to hear a plane landing, people speaking, a man walking up to him and his goats bleating, just because he was reminiscing, Bucky found himself about three metres away from Steven Grant Rogers himself. Including his glorious glorious beard and the skin-tight dark-green t-shirt stretching over his chest. Pecs to be precise, Bucky's mind helpfully supplied. Not to mention the khaki-coloured shorts that showed off thighs that Bucky knew all too well were exactly as deliciously dangerous as they looked. And bare feet.

Steve was barefoot, like it was only two minutes ago that he decided to come visit his life-long pal in Africa and kill him with his looks in the process. Casually, because that's what's life-long pals do.

Bucky's face scrunched up even more when he actually actively registered that Steve had stopped so far away from him. Why was Steve still standing three metres away from him? Normally, they hugged - sometimes the typical shoulder-clapping bro-hug when it had been less than a day since Steve’s last visit, and sometimes with Bucky pressing his face into Steve's neck and Steve winding his fingers into Bucky's hair and both of them just holding on, if it had been a little bit longer. Which, to be totally honest, was most of the time, because not seeing each other for more than a day happened very easily when one person had to save the world and the other person their brain.

So yeah, why wasn't Steve grabbing Bucky's shoulders and stroking his hair? Why wasn't Bucky slinging his arm around Steve's waist and inhaling his scent? Something was wrong here and only now did Bucky's brain have the genius idea to look at Steve's face and not the rest of his frankly very distracting body.

What Bucky saw there caught him by surprise. He had honestly thought he was prepared for it because, well, he’d imagined it no fewer than a thousand times and it was pretty much the purpose of this whole experiment. Being faced with it now, though, was almost too much for Bucky to not just turn tail and ignore his feelings somewhere other than here in front of Steve where it was impossible for him to escape them.

The Look was back, and it was directed at Bucky. In this very moment in time, on this very place on earth, Steve Rogers was looking at Bucky like he was the most delicious meal he'd ever had on his plate. And Bucky was so willing to be eaten alive that he shortly reconsidered the "no sign of suicidal tendencies" note in his patient file.

For the first time in his life, Bucky allowed himself to look back at Steve Looking at him. He had never dared to, before and during the war, afraid that he would see regret in Steve's eyes, and since Steve found him in Romania, he just hadn't looked at Bucky like that anymore. Or maybe Bucky just didn't notice, he wondered now.

It didn't matter now though, because Steve was taking a step forward, then three quicker ones, and then he was abruptly only a few inches away from Bucky. He tentatively reached his right hand out as if not sure if his touch would be welcomed - when had Steve's touch ever been unwelcome to Bucky? Oh god, had Bucky made him feel like he didn't want Steve to touch him? Was that why Steve didn’t hug him just now? But that didn’t make any-

Bucky was ripped out of his short panic by Steve's large, calloused palm and his long, gentle fingers cupping the side of his face, sliding back into and through his hair, twirling the dark brown strands around his fingers, watching in what seemed like awe and fascination.

"Your hair,” Steve mumbled rapturously, while still gently tugging at the hair curled around his hand.

As much as Bucky was moved by Steve's sudden attention to the bird's nest on his head, he was equally confused. His hair had been this long and in this hairstyle on at least four of Steve’s other visits, so what was so different today?

His confusion must have been clear on his face, because Steve rushed to explain.

"It's just, it's so long Buck, I didn't even know, I mean, I knew, I've seen it, but I wasn't aware that it had gotten that long, it's, it's beautiful, Buck, I, I don't know what else to say, it's-"

"You don't have to say anything else, Stevie, you already stumbled over enough words for the next three years,” Bucky replied, more than a little endeared by Steve's sudden rambling and even more flustered by Steve saying that Bucky was beautiful. Well, Bucky's hair, but his hair was on his head and his head counted as him so if it came down to it, Steve had said that Bucky was beautiful. And at that realisation his blush came rushing up his neck - or down his face? Where did blushes start? - like suddenly Bucky and Steve had switched roles and Bucky was the one with the blush attacks.

When he looked back up at Steve's face - only now having realised that he had looked down upon Steve's sweet talking - he witnessed Steve's Look wandering down his body, stopping at his waist where Bucky had tried to tuck the robes in so that they would accentuate his now leaner figure. Judging by Steve's swallowing, it had worked. Bucky could have high-fived himself and giddily danced around like a teenager after their first successful date right there and then.

So red dresses were definitely Steve's thing.

Now, maybe there was a chance that it was not only the red robes but also what was underneath that Steve was interested in. That little spark of hope that had been steadily burning brighter with every millisecond that Steve Looked at Bucky was suddenly very close to becoming a fire. Because what if Steve really was into Bucky? In an "I love you as my lover" way and not the bro-pal-buddy-best-friend-thing they had going on since forever. Not that Bucky didn’t like that, he did, he loved that he had a way to love Steve without risking rejection and generally fucking up, and all the shit that happened with Hydra and Bucky literally trying to kill Steve meant he was even more grateful for Steve's friendship . But the mere possibility of Steve Looking at Bucky for Bucky and not his outfit was simultaneously so far away and so close that it felt dizzying.

Later, Bucky would blame it on said dizziness that he now leaned in towards Steve, his head tilting ever so slightly to fit even better in the palm of Steve's hand. And Steve let his thumb wander along Bucky's cheekbone, down to the corner of his mouth, stopping there. Bucky was left feeling like he was hanging in mid-air, with his fate of crashing down or flying higher in Steve's hands only.

His eyes met Steve's, and there was no doubt that Steve knew he held Bucky's heart in his hands right in this moment. Ever the considerate one, Steve's eyes widened for just a fraction and Bucky understood, it was Steve asking if this was okay. If he could continue without damaging their friendship irreparably.

Bucky answered by lifting one side of his mouth into a smile, and Steve slowly placed his thumb on Bucky's lower lip and pressed down gently, as if worried he might crush Bucky under just his thumb, the tenderness of it making Bucky's pupils dilate and his breath hitch. Bucky had given his heart away just now, or would have, if there had ever been a moment in his life where it didn't entirely belong to Steven Grant Rogers. Never had Bucky felt more whole than when Steve leaned in, his gaze glued to Bucky's until he they were too close to focus, and then felt Steve's lips on his, only for a second at first and then for what could have been, and probably was, an eternity. And was there anything better than having Steve Rogers hold your heart for eternity? Not in Bucky's book.  
\------  
"So was it the red dress, or did you just suddenly come to your senses about how I'm the most ogle-worthy person in your life?" Bucky asked later, trailing his fingers over Steve's bare chest.

"Buck, you've always been the most ogle-worthy person in my life, I have no idea how you could've ever thought otherwise.”

Bucky decided to ignore the unasked question - his jealousy was a topic for another time - and instead insisted on getting his own question answered. "Stevie, as much as I love to hear this, you still didn't tell me if it was my outfit that was the game changer.”

Steve looked kind of terrified now and Bucky knew he was in for an interesting answer. "Buck,” Steve pleaded. "Is that really so important for you to know?"

"Yes, Steve, it is." Never let it be said that Bucky couldn't be stubborn as well.

After a few more seconds of failing puppy-eyes and adorable squirming, Steve said, "It kinda was and kinda wasn't the outfit. The red robes. Red dress. Doesn't matter what it's called, you looked amazing in it. And it made me- It made me remember that night in the bar back in '43, after I got you out of Zola's godawful hands, you remember?"

How could Steve possibly think that Bucky didn't recall that night? It had changed his life in so many ways, he would never forget it. Instead of saying all this, though, he just nodded, holding Steve's eyes, reassuring him to go on.

"So yeah, that night at the bar, when, when Peggy came in, wearing that red dress and her hair falling in waves. I looked at her, like every other guy in that bar, and I thought she was beautiful, like every other guy in that bar thought, and then I wondered: ’How would Bucky look in red? With long hair?’ And all thoughts and views of Peggy were forgotten, the only thing my mind was able to focus on was how you'd look with long hair and red clothes.”

Steve took a moment to gather himself, the most important thing obviously not having been said yet. "And, I realised that I was in love with you, Buck. That, to me, nothing in this universe could ever be more beautiful and awe-inspiring than you. Inside and out. And today, when I remembered all that, I felt like I was living that night again. And I just- I couldn't hold it in anymore. I tried so hard but I always was weak when it came to you, Buck. Always will be."

Steve cut himself off, choking back tears, his features laced with memories and regret, his muscles tense as if expecting a fight that only existed in his head. Bucky rushed to get Steve to come back to him, to the real world where they lay in bed together, their hands and legs entangled for the first time, their hearts always having been.

"Stevie, hey, hey, look at me, please. You may be weak when I ask you to bring me breakfast in bed because you won't be able to resist my charm, but you're not weak when you fight for me, when you believe in me and stand up for me, when you love me. And sometimes fighting and loving is the same thing. And I will fight for you, too. I love you, too. And you don't think I'm weak because of that. So don't you go and think that you are. Understood?" Bucky wiped a single fallen tear from Steve's beautiful face, Steve's eyelashes fanning out over his cheekbones when he closed his eyes.

"Yeah, Buck. Understood,” he mumbled, opening his eyes again to meet Bucky's and tell him with more than words ever could that, yes, he really understood. And was there anything better than Steve Rogers holding your heart for eternity and telling you that he loves you? Not in Bucky's book.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr on [hellobeautworld](https://hellobeautworld.tumblr.com/). Come scream about Stucky and Evanstan with me!!


End file.
